


We've Managed to Save One

by The_Snarkivist



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma mentioned, F/F, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Police state, Series 03 Fix-It: Children of Earth (Torchwood), Temporary Character Death, alien occupation, family violence mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29908242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Snarkivist/pseuds/The_Snarkivist
Summary: Despite Ianto Jones's best efforts, there was only one survivor of the Night Travellers. But sometimes one is enough.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Jonathan Penn / original character
Comments: 19
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I am going back to "From Out of the Rain" for inspiration. On a recent rewatch I could stop thinking about what happened to the little boy who survived the Night Travellers. I don't think he's ever given a name but if he is and I just missed it, please let me know and I will change it. I am usually not a fan of stories that lean heavily on original characters but this story demanded to be written. There is some stuff at the end with Jack and Ianto.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories, nightmares, and history nerds abound.

Prologue - Cardiff 2008 

The man was back. The tall man in the suit with the haunting blue eyes. He was Torchwood. Ianto Jones, that was his name. Jonathan had done a lot of research on the supposedly secret alien hunting organization. If Jones was coming to see him, that could only mean one thing.

“Jonathan,” The musical Welsh baritone said. “How are you doing? I see you’ve taken over running the Electro?” The man looked around appraisingly. “Glad that there’s still a place to see old movies.” 

“I’m okay.” Jonathan said nocommitally. If he seemed normal and well adjusted would they leave his memories alone? "My uncle is helping me run it until I turn 18."

“I wanted to talk to you about some things,” Ianto said smoothly, “would you be up for a drink at the cafe down Hope Street?” 

“Oh, uh, okay.” Jonathan sensed that this wasn’t really a request and if he said no, Ianto would find some other way to give him those pills that erased memories. 

*************

As they settled into the booth with their drinks, Ianto looked at him shrewdly. “I think you know why we’re here. Just so you know, it’s not because of all the research you’ve been doing. I was planning to, uh, visit you anyway. We can’t have loose ends, you see. It’s Torchwood policy. But… I did want to say. I am deeply sorry for your loss. I…” a hint of emotion almost crept into his smooth tone. It was gone instantly, “I tried to save them. I am very sorry that I wasn’t able to.” 

“I saw you at the funeral.” Jonathan said. “It was nice of you to come. It meant a lot.” 

Ianto smiled sadly.

“But you did save one, didn’t you?” Jonathan said hopefully. “The little boy? Dylan, I think his name is? He’s okay, right?” 

Ianto nodded. “Yes. He’s okay.” 

“Did you take his memories too?” Jonathan asked, his voice cracking.

“Partially,” Ianto explained, “Retcon can be tricky with children. We gave him a low dose. He will probably have vague memories that will manifest as nightmares. But I didn’t want to hinder his development.” 

And then, humiliatingly, Jonathan couldn’t handle it anymore. He began to sob. “We didn’t always get along…” he choked out, “but they were good parents. They loved me and they always told me they were proud of me. I have so many… those memories… When I was a boy and Da teaching me how to thread a Steenbeck. And Ma teaching me how to splice film. It was their only dream, that the Electro survive where the other cinemas failed. They wanted me to carry on the family business. I can’t…. I can lose that. I can’t lose all those skills. I can’t lose them. Not again.” 

He looked desperately at Ianto, tears streaming down his face. 

“Please. They are all I have of them. Those memories are everything. I swear I won’t talk about Torchwood. I won’t cause any trouble for you. I just want… I just need to keep those memories. If I can’t have my parents, can’t I remember how they loved me, how they were there for me? How they….” He crumpled into inarticulate sobs. 

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and looked up. Ianto’s blue eyes shimmered with emotion.

“Just don’t ever post anything online. Don’t do anything to let Jack know that you remember. Can you do that?” 

“Yes! Yes, I promise, you’ll never hear of me again! I won’t cause any trouble. Just please…” 

“Okay. You never saw me, and this never happened.” 

“Thank you!” 

“You owe me one.” Ianto said in a deadpan. And he got up and was gone from the cafe before Jonathan really registered what had happened. 

Chapter 1  
Cardiff - 2022

Dylan woke in a sweat. It was the dreams again. The monstrous face leering at him, the dim shadowy faces of his parents and sister, the strange movie theatre, being paralyzed in a strange bed, all to the sounds of eerie carnival music, and the tall sad man with blue eyes. He’d had these dreams for as long as he could remember. They were terrifying but they also called to him. He woke from each dream with the sense that there was something he should be doing. But he could never figure out what it was.

When he was younger he had asked his foster mother about the dreams and she had looked sad and said, “Don’t worry, Dyl, nothing that can hurt you now.” But she would never explain it. 

But those images plagued him. They never left him. And if he thought about it, that was probably what brought him to Cardiff University and this tiny little flat shared with six other students. Somehow Cardiff felt like it would have answers. So he took crappy jobs and worked and worked until he had enough for Cardiff University. Then he ignored his foster-parents fears that the city was too dangerous and left home.

It was his first night in Cardiff and the dream was clearer and more immediate than it had ever been. 

He got up and padded to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He smiled to himself. Despite the risks, he had made the right choice. If he was ever going to figure this out, he knew he was in the right place. 

He heard - or rather felt - a rumble so loud that the whole kitchen shook. He crept over to the monitor showing the outside of the apartment. It displayed the street below. There was a huge armoured vehicle with large alien detection scanners mounted to it scanning the streets. The vehicle was bigger than any of the scanner trucks he had ever seen in Abergavenny.

“You get nightmares too?” A gruff voice said behind him. Dylan turned to see Holly - one of his roommates - in the kitchen. He must have been really distracted to not hear her roll in. She had that same wan and grey look that Dylan had. The look that said you didn’t remember the last time you slept through the night. 

“Huh? How did you know?” Dylan asked.

“Prowling around the kitchen with a nervous energy. You’ve got all the signs. So what’s your trauma?” Holly had a slightly rough exterior but Dylan had liked her immediately. She was a few years ahead of him and in engineering and he suspected that she was at the top of her class. She carried herself with an aggressive competency that he found very comforting. She would be really good in a crisis.

“I… uh… family stuff.” Dylan waffled. 

“Hey, kiddo. It’s okay. Whatever your shit is it can’t be worse than that your Dad went psycho and shot up your whole family and then himself, leaving you only you alive.” 

“Is… is that why you use a wheelchair?” 

“Bullet right in the spine. Better than the bullets in the brains that my sister and Mom got.” 

Dylan winced. “That’s a lot.” 

“Yeah, whatever, it’s fine. Aside from the nightmares, I’m okay. Means I’m not afraid of anything, not my profs, not the bullies who made fun of me, and not these bullshit aliens that are poisoning our world.” 

Dylan believed it. 

“Anyway, I’m not looking for pity. I just tell you this so you don’t feel like I’m judging you about whatever it is that keeps you awake at night. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“My parents and sister died when I was young too. I don’t really know what happened. But we were all in comas, but like magical comas?” Dylan looked at Holly expecting an eye roll or a look of disbelief. She just nodded, listening. “And then I woke up and they didn’t.” 

“That sucks, kid. I’m sorry. What a world? Your family died of a magical coma and my Dad shot all of us so we wouldn’t get turned into alien narcotics. What a world?” 

Dylan smiled in relief. If someone as relentlessly no-nonsense as Holly believed him maybe others would. 

“I’m Dylan by the way.” 

“I know, I just like calling you kiddo.” Holly laughed. “You should try and get some sleep. The first few weeks of first year can be tough.” 

“Thanks for the chat!” Dylan said as he sighed and returned to bed. Tomorrow he would explore. 

*******************

Dylan had been in Cardiff for a month and he still hadn't had a chance to explore. He quickly found out that you needed a pass to leave the University campus. He didn't have an acceptable reason for leaving so he hadn't bothered to apply. Besides, he had been busy with his new classes and trying to keep up with the readings. 

It had been a rather solitary month. His roommates were all in the engineering and sciences and we're even busier than he was. He occasionally saw Holly - almost always in the middle of the night after he had to distance himself from a nightmare. And his classmates kept to themselves. 

There was a distrust he noticed amongst everyone he met at Cardiff University. People kept themselves at a distance as if at any moment any of their classmates could turn out to be controlled by an alien. 

People in Abergavenny generally knew him or, anyway, knew that he was the Lloyd boy. It wasn't that they didn't also treat everyone like they could be controlled by an alien, but at least they knew how he acted normally so there was a mode for comparison. He found it so disconcerting to be viewed with distanced suspicion by everyone he met. Not to mention all the random spot checks by the Anti-Alien Squad…

But this was the new normal since the 456 had come back several years ago. All the measures were for the best. Just like the protective suits, gas masks and visors everyone had to wear and all the decontamination one had to do when coming in from outside. Dylan had been 16 when the 456 came back in 2017 and being young he had adjusted relatively well to the changes. In the early days there had been optimism that the governments of the world would beat the creatures, drive them away from earth like they had when they came to Earth in 2009. But after years of contaminated air and alien possessions, that hope had dwindled. 

As Dylan sat in his local history class on a grey October morning he wasn't thinking about finding a way to explore anymore, nor was he thinking of the dreams that were still vivid and still almost nightly. But then he heard the prof start to explain the assignment.

"I wasn't sure if I would get clearance for this so I didn't put it on the syllabus. But, I have just received permission so I can tell you we will be doing a neighbourhood history assignment which will allow you to be partnered with a community historian who you can interview about your neighbourhood."

Dylan's heart started racing. This was his opportunity! He could get a pass to go explore the city! He noticed a small blond girl wearing brightly clashing colours several rows over who looked just as excited as he was. She had her hand straight up in the air and squirming in her seat to be noticed.

“Yes, uh,” the prof consulted her seating chart, “Davies, you have a question.” 

“Can I do the Mermaid Quay neighbourhood? I have friends of the family that know about that area and I could talk to them. My late uncle used to work there in the tourist office. Well, he said it was a tourist office, but I think it was much more than that. I think they hunted aliens..” 

One of the posh looking boys Dylan had identified as the cutest boy in class groaned. “Jesus, Mica. No one cares about your dumb imaginary dead gay uncle.”

The girl, Mica, glared at him. Suddenly Dylan didn't find him so attractive anymore.

The prof rolled her eyes. “Uh, oh, of course yes that’s fine. But do try to stick with the actual facts of the neighbourhood. I don’t want rampant speculation about possibly fictional secret extra-governmental alien hunting agencies, alright?”

The young woman looked a little crestfallen. 

“And just send me the names of your contacts and I will get you a pass for that neighbourhood. Everyone else, I have assigned you neighbourhoods. You will see what area you are assigned and your community historian’s contact information in your student profile in the portal. Your pass to visit the area will also be in that package, make sure you download that to your phone and have it with you always. I had to call in a lot of favours to get passes for you to leave campus so please don’t abuse this. Additionally, make sure you are not out past 6 pm. For those of you not from Cardiff, the Anti-Alien Squad takes our city’s curfew very very seriously.” 

Dylan wanted to talk to Mica Davies but as soon as the class ended she quickly packed up her books and ran out of the classroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I would love to hear what you think!
> 
> I think that probably Jack could have mixed some Retcon that would allow Jonathan to remember his parents and what they taught him but not how they died and the Night Travellers. But I think that Ianto assumes that if Jonathan just forgot what happened to his parents he'd never stop trying to solve the mystery. So that's why the Retcon is sort of all or nothing in this story.
> 
> In case it isn't clear who Holly is, that gets explained in later chapters. I played around a bit with canon on her character.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan finally gets to explore Cardiff. Maybe he can finally get some answers about his past?

Dylan was surprised at how nervous he felt when he reached the checkpoint at the edge of campus. The guards were decked out in full armour and their helmets had translucent visors blocking their entire face, unlike Dylan's which was a government mandated clear visor. 

"Pass?" One of the intimidating guards commanded.

Dylan shakily held up his phone as the one guard examined his pass and the other scanned him with a handheld scanner. 

"Clear." The guard said, motioning for Dylan to walk to a set of doors that had opened to reveal an antechamber. Dylan put his phone in it's protective case with the pass screen still active and walked in and the doors closed behind him. And then the outside doors began to open. 

Just as Dylan stepped out the bus was leaving. He tried to run after it but it was no use. He looked at the schedule, another wasn’t coming for twenty minutes. So he decided to walk. He had wanted to see Cardiff anyway. 

He had been assigned a neighbourhood called Hope Street. It was technically walkable but when he was halfway there, he realized that walking was possibly a mistake. A mistake he compounded by stopping to look closely at everything he found interesting. And he found everything interesting. 

As he rounded the corner of Hope Street he realized he was incredibly late for his meeting with the historian. He couldn’t take his phone out of it’s protection pouch to email him. Great first impression that was, he thought to himself. He was so distracted in worrying about his tardiness that he didn’t see the men until it was too late and he was surrounded.

“Where are you off to? Looking all wide-eyed around. You’re not from here.” One said, he had painted his civilian visor so you couldn’t see his face. 

“That’s quite the nice helmet you have,” another man said menacingly, pushing on Dylan’s shoulder so he fell back against another man who grabbed his arms. “Must have cost you a pretty penny.” 

“Probably works better than these free ones they gave us at the dole office,” one of the men menaced. 

They had all started to move in towards him when all of a sudden he heard a yell and the men started to fall back. 

Dylan scuttled free from the man who held him and saw that his saviour was a man wielding a baseball bat. 

“Back the fuck off!” the man yelled. “You leave this kid alone.” 

Dylan bristled at the word kid. He was 21 years old afterall. But the man was obviously rescuing him from having his helmet ripped off and dying from the poisoned air. 

The stranger sent one of the men flying with a power whack and the rest all ran off as the stranger wound up to swing at them. Clearly he knew how to wield a weapon.

“You okay, kid?” The stranger asked as he held a hand out to Dylan. Dylan had crouched in a corner once the mele started.

Dylan accepted the man’s help up but said, “I’m not a kid, I’m 21!” 

The stranger gave him a withering look through his visor. “Are you okay?” The cheap speaker on his helmet crackled but not so much that Dylan couldn’t understand him.

“Yes, uh, thanks to you. Thank you.” 

Dylan realized he was still holding the man's hand. They were both wearing gloves but the contact made Dylan feel something he couldn't put into words. The man's grip was strong and confident. He had absolutely no reason to, but holding this man's hand, he felt safe. Dylan found he was a little disappointed when the stranger broke contact.

"What were you… Wait," the man said. "Are you Dylan Lloyd?" 

"I… how did you know?"

"I'm Jonathan Penn, we had an appointment. When you were so late I went looking for you. DId you get lost? What happened?” There was concern in Jonathan’s voice.

“Oh…” Dylan found he couldn’t lie. “No, I missed the bus and then I walked. And then, everything was just so new and I’ve never been to Cardiff… And I just… I haven’t left campus since I moved here a month ago. There were just so many things to see. It’s a really pretty city, I mean, all things considered. I’d read about all these things but I hadn’t seen them for myself. I was so curious. I mean, everything is really different now but, you know? And I just lost track of time. I’m sorry.” 

Even through Jonathan’s visor Dylan could see him roll his eyes. 

“Look, I get that it’s fun and exciting to be in a new city.” There was real anger in his voice. “But this isn’t some childhood adventure game. This city is really dangerous. Someone started a rumour that expensive helmets protect from alien possession as well as the poison air. Which is obviously bullshit but people are desperate. Those men would have ripped off your helmet right there because of that. And there’s dangers your little bumpkin brain couldn’t even imagine!"

Well, this was off to a good start. Why did Dylan have to get matched with a grumpy asshole? 

“We’d better get inside. You’ve wasted enough of my time.” Jonathan spun on his heel and marched up the street. Dylan stood dumbfounded. “You coming?” Jonathan called without looking back. 

Dylan stumbled after him. 

They ended up at a boarded up building. It had been spray painted with all sorts of graffiti. Something about the building felt familiar to Dylan. Jonathan was opening up a door beside the boards. He held the door open to Dylan. After the door shut the decontamination process started. After it finished Jonathan took off his mask and helmet. Dylan almost gasped at the long scar running across his face. It made him look completely badass and intimidating. Dylan felt butterflies in his stomach that he was sure were just nervousness. 

“Take your suit off and then we can go to my office.” Jonathan said gruffly as he began to unzip his suit. 

Dylan took off his mask, helmet, gloves, and began to take his suit off as well. 

Once Jonathan opened the inner door and Dylan stepped through, he gasped. 

“I’ve seen this before?!” He whispered. 

“You’ve seen a movie theatre before? Congratulations, you’re not a total baby.” 

“No, I mean, I’ve seen this place before in…” Dylan trailed off. His lateness had not endeared him to Jonathan and crazy tales of strange dreams would only make things worse. But he had seen this lobby in his dreams. “... in a book or something.” 

Jonathan looked at him quizzically, which was better than with annoyance. “It was called the Electro. I ran it until the lockdown.” He looked around sadly. “Luckily my parents owned the building or else I would be unemployed *and* homeless.” 

Dylan looked around wide-eyed. Jonathan had kept it in pristine condition. It was gorgeous. 

“Do you want a tour?” Jonathan said, seeing Dylan’s interest. 

“Oh! Yes please!! And I want to hear all about running a cinema! Did your parents always own it?” 

Jonathan remained stonefaced. “Yes, it’s been in the family since it was built in about the 1880s. It was a Vaudeville hall then.” He started towards the stairs. “I’ll show you the projection booth first.” 

“What was it like growing up working in a movie theatre?” Dylan said with awe. “Did you get free popcorn? Did you get to see all the movies for free? Did you get to watch 18 Certificate films before you were 18? DId you get to keep the movie posters? Did you ever get to meet any movie stars? Did you get to project the films? What’s it like in a projection booth? Did the films ever catch fire?”

Jonathan raised his eyebrows at the bombardment of questions but then his face clouded and he moved quickly up the stairs. When they got to the landing he said. “It was great. My parents taught me everything about film.” 

He looked so incredibly heartbroken. Dylan felt a twinge of guilt. Clearly Jonathan’s parents were not around and they had probably died in the alien attacks or the ensuing years of alien occupation. Dylan cursed himself. He knew better than to ask too many questions about things in the past. Everyone had lost people and no one wanted to talk about it. Perhaps if Dylan could remember what happened to his parents, he wouldn’t want to talk about it either. He wondered again why he had decided to go into history. 

“Here’s the projection booth…” 

Jonathan was polite but distant through the rest of the tour. Though Dylan could see he was slightly winning him over with his enthusiastic questions about the cinema and projecting a film. Jonathan almost smiled when he offered to show Dylan how to thread the projector and Dylan almost started jumping up and down and clapping his hands. Dylan had always been so curious about cinemas and film. He had tried to get a job at Abergavenny’s local cinema but it closed soon after the 456 came back. 

They had ended up at the auditorium last. As Jonathan pulled the faded red curtain open, Dylan felt a cold panic grip his spine. He couldn’t make his legs move. 

“I… can’t. I just can’t. It’s too scary… that’s where… No I can’t go in.” He didn’t even really understand what he was saying. 

Jonathan looked at him with concern. The concern wrinkled his scar and Dylan wondered if that was painful. But all of the irritation on Jonathan's face was gone. 

“Dylan? Are you okay?” He said as he put a warm hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

“That room. It’s… I don’t know why but I can’t go in there.” He looked beseechingly at Jonathan. “Please don’t make me go in there.” 

Jonathan’s face softened. “It’s okay Dylan. Don’t worry.” He put a protective arm around Dylan’s shoulder and led him away from the auditorium. “We’ll go to my flat, it’s just upstairs beside the projection room. 

Jonathan was so gentle as he led Dylan up to the flat, all of his irritation seemed to have disappeared. He sat him down in a chair in the tiny kitchen and put a kettle on. 

Dylan looked around the room as Jonathan prepared the tea. It was a small room. It was beyond minimalist. There was no art on the walls and no decorations, not even a movie poster or lobby card. It had one stuffed bookcase and a dresser. There was a queen sized bed with a lamp beside it. The kitchen had a small fridge, hot plate and microwave. 

“Don’t spend all that much time in here.” Jonathan said in answer to a question that Dylan had thought but not said. “My office is in the auditorium and I am there most often.” 

Dylan was surprised. “Your office? But… how can you work in the same room where it happened? Where you lost them?” 

Jonathan nearly dropped the kettle and turned around and stared at Dylan.

“Excuse me? What did you say?” 

“I… I don’t know… it just came out.” Dylan’s hands flew to his mouth. He had not thought those things nor did he understand what he had said. “Why did I say that? Who did you lose in that room?” 

Jonathan’s hands shook as he poured the tea. “Your name is Dylan, right? Where are you from?” 

“Abergavenny.” Dylan answered.

“Were you born there? Were your parents born there?” Jonathan asked as he handed the tea to Dylan. He was quite intent. 

“No… I don’t… I think I was born in Cardiff. I don’t know where my parents were born. My foster parents are from Abergavenny.” 

Jonathan pulled up a chair and sat facing Dylan. “You had a sister, didn’t you? But she and your parents all died mysteriously.” 

Dylan gasped. “How did you know?” 

Jonathan wiped a hand across his face. “The same… thing? The same creatures that took your family, they took my parents. It was… right there, in the auditorium. That’s where they came from. And that’s where me Ma and Da…” 

Jonathan’s face was a picture of misery. Before he could stop himself, Dylan reached out and gently stroked his cheek. He was shocked when only for a moment Jonathan leaned into his touch. But then he pulled back and frowned. Dylan dropped his hand guiltily.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...” Dylan murmured. “Anyway, we don’t have to talk about this.” 

Jonathan’s eyes searched Dylan’s face. “No, it’s okay. I think you need to know.” 

Jonathan leaned back and took a fortifying sip of tea.

“Do you remember anything?” He asked gently.

“I don’t really. But…” Dylan hesitated. 

“You have dreams?” Jonathan finished for him.

“How did you know?” 

“He said you would have dreams. The memory drug? It’s really strong so they don’t give a very high dose to children. He said your memories would bleed through as dreams.” 

“He? Wait? The monster who killed our parents? You spoke to him?” 

“Oh! No, no, it wasn’t him.” Jonathan saw how agitated Dylan had become and smoothed a hand up and down his arm. “He was a monster. But he’s gone now.” 

Dylan smiled weakly. He became acutely aware of how no one had touched him since he hugged his foster parents goodbye when they dropped him off at his dorm. 

“Have you heard of Torchwood? They were a secret organization that hunted aliens.” Jonathan asked him gently. 

Dylan thought of the girl in his class. “Did they have a base by Mermaid Quay?” 

“Yes, they did. How did you know?” 

“A girl in my history class, she says her uncle worked for them. But… he died. And no one in the class believes he existed.” 

“That’s him!” Jonathan seemed excited. “That’s the man who said about your memories. I don’t know what happened to him. I heard that the 456 got him but no one had any details.” 

“And he is….?” 

“He saved your life! He tried to save my parents but he couldn’t.” 

Dylan was getting seriously confused. “So who did this?”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t have long conversations much these days. It’s like I forgot how to talk to people. And I’m just so excited that I found you.” 

Jonathan’s words made Dylan strangely happy. He rather liked the idea of being found. 

“Let me start at the beginning. It all started when my parents had an idea to collaborate with the Hope Street Historical society. We had all these films of the street and the neighbourhood. I edited together a reel. It was early silent cinema. Like Mitchell & Kenyon? Do you know of them? They travelled the UK at the turn of the last century filming people and then would screen the footage that night for the town and charge admission. It was a whole business model in the early days of films. But, anyway, this strange footage of a travelling show somehow got on the reel. I didn’t put it there.” 

Dylan shivered, he could see the horrible man’s face from his dreams.

“You’ve seen him, haven’t you? They called him Ghostmaker. The whole group was called The Night Travellers.” 

“Yes.” Dylan squeaked. 

“Don’t worry, Torchwood got him. You are safe. So we played the film and that man, Ghostmaker, and this other woman, Pearl, stepped off of screen. Then went off into the rain looking for victims. They stole people’s breath. The victim would still be alive but not breathing. And all the last breaths were in this silver flash. That’s what happened to you and your family. You were in a car. He and Pearl just came upon you and stole your breath.”

Dylan couldn’t stop the tears that ran down his face. He didn’t remember it, but he did. He remembered how his Da had slammed on the brakes because he thought he saw something. And then, then, being captive, made to watch the show. He had been there but not there. It was a strange and terrifying limbo. He remembered all of it. 

Jonathan pulled out a cloth handkerchief and handed it to Dylan. It smelled like a mix of laundry soap, projector grease, and of Jonathan. It was strangely comforting as he dabbed his eyes. Jonathan smoothed a hand up and down Dylan's arm comfortingly.

“Do you want to take a break?” Jonathan asked, as he pushed a strand of Dylan’s wavy blond hair behind his ear. 

“No. No please tell me the rest.” 

Jonathan nodded and ran his hand from Dylan’s hair down his cheek as he took it away. Dylan shivered again but it wasn’t from fear. He had never felt these things for anyone. But there was something about Jonathan that he found irresistible. 

“And then he, Ianto was his name, Ianto Jones. He got the flask away from Ghostmaker and ran. But Ghostmaker caught up with him and flung the flask in the air. All the breaths came out - my parents, your parents, your sister, and the others. When Ianto caught it there was only one breath left.”

“Mine?”

“Yes, it was yours.” 

"It's coming back… the memories." 

Jonathan took one of Dylan's hands in his. "What do you remember?"

"I was in a hospital bed. There were two men. A man with brown hair in an old fashioned military uniform, he had the flask and he held it up to my lips. And then the other man. He was crying. He had the bluest eyes… Then I was so tired. And I fell asleep. They were gone when I woke up."

"I am so sorry about your parents and sister." Jonathan said gently. "I know what it's like. But you were so young. Too young."

Dylan looked down. "I remember so little of them. They are all just flashes of moments and vague feelings."

"I am so sorry, Dylan. They - the two men you saw - gave you a drug, Retcon, to make you forget all the horrible scary stuff. They gave you a low dose because you were so young. But it probably took some of your memories of your parents. It was Torchwood policy, everyone has to forget. That's why so few people - people whose lives they saved - remember them."

"But… did they take your memories too? How do you remember?"

"No, they didn't. When it was all over, after my parents funeral, Ianto came to see me. He was going to Retcon me. I pleaded with him to let me keep my memories. Everything my parents taught me would have been gone. I wouldn't have been able to run the theatre."

Jonathan ran a hand through his hair. Dylan was so tempted to reach out and do the same but he kept his hands to himself. 

"So he took pity on me. He let me keep my memories. But I am sorry that you don't have memories of your parents."

"It is sad but… But I love my foster parents. They raised me. They have always made me feel so loved. It's hard to think of how my life would be if we hadn't turned onto Hope Street that night and Ghostmaker hadn't caught us. Is that horrible? I don't wish my parents dead, but I liked the childhood I had. I am so sorry for your parents." Dylan looked at Jonathan. "You must have been young too when they died?"

"Yes, I was 16. I understand. I am so glad that your foster parents are good and kind. I think I know what you mean. When my parents died, I was ok. I knew they loved me. And they gave me everything I needed to continue the family business. I cherish the memories of them every day. I miss them but I accept what happened. It's not like…" 

Jonathan paused. He looked uncomfortable. 

"Maybe this sounds stupid, but the world doesn't feel right, right now. It feels like somewhere along the way we went wrong. There was a point, something that happened. If time travel existed I would go back and find that point and fix it. But that point wasn't losing my parents."

Jonathan looked down as if waiting for the reaction of derision he always got when he told people this. 

"That doesn't sound stupid at all." Jonathan looked so relieved. It warmed Dylan's heart. "I think that sometimes. Do you know what the point in time was where it went wrong?" 

"I don't know. But I think it has something to do with Torchwood. They were our best line of defense against aliens and now we are overrun and living in fear of aliens but Torchwood is gone."

Dylan thought again about Mica Davies. "Do you know what happened to them?" 

"Not really. I know three of them died within a series of months, including Ianto. The other man you remember, Jack, he was too destroyed to continue. People think he left earth and never came back. He and Ianto were a couple. And it seems like Ianto's death was the last straw. But I think there was something else. It's all so shrouded in secrecy. The Brian Green government was so ashamed of how they handled the whole thing. They covered a lot up."

“i keep thinking about that girl in my class, the one who says that Ianto was her uncle. No one else in the class believes he existed. I don’t know, maybe she is making it up?” 

“Is her name Mica… what was it? Donald? No Davis? Oh Davies! Is her name Mica Davies?” Jonathan asked.

“Yes! Yes, that’s her name! So he is her uncle?” 

“Yes, that’s incredible. I wonder if she knows what happened?” 

“She’s doing her project on the Mermaid Quay neighbourhood. She mentioned in class she knows people. Maybe she knows Torchwood people?” 

“Oh, Dylan. I am so sorry, we haven’t even talked about your project.” He said and then looked at his watch. “But you better get going. Curfew starts in about two hours and I don’t want you to get caught on the streets.” 

“Can I come back next weekend?” Dylan asked hopefully. 

“Of course.” Jonathan smiled. It was probably stupid but seeing a genuine smile on that scarred and beautiful face made Dylan feel like he had accomplished something infinitely great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I would love to hear what you think! 
> 
> I think in canon that the kid in "From Out of the Rain" was probably younger than 7 and Jonathan was probably older than 16 when the Night Travellers struck but I wanted their ages to be closer for... reasons.
> 
> Mitchell & Kenyon was a real company - it had been thought that they did mostly fiction films but then in 1994 about 800 film reels were discovered in a building that used to be their office in Blackburn. This find led to a reevaluation of their work and was a huge boon for historical researchers because the films showed ordinary people going about their business. https://www.sheffield.ac.uk/nfca/researchandarticles/mitchellkenyonfirm


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan makes a friend, Mica has a lot of information to share, and the situation seems hopeless.

Dylan got to his history class early that week because he wanted to catch Mica before class started. He had guessed correctly that she was there early. 

“Hi,” Dylan said to Mica. “Can I… I mean, do you mind if I sit here? I mean, is this someone’s seat?” 

Mica looked very suspiciously at him. 

“Oh, no! No I’m not trying to like hit on you or something. I’m actually gay. So you’re very pretty, but it’s just not…. Not interested! Anyway, I just… Well I did want to talk to you about something.” 

Mica smiled patiently at him. Great now she thought he was a moron with verbal diarrhea and was humouring him. Dylan sat in the seat next to her.

“I wanted to talk to you about Torchwood and your Uncle, Ianto Jones. I mean, Ianto was your uncle, right?” 

Mica looked suspicious again. “Look, he does exist. I don’t know how I can prove it to you but I know it’s true and I don’t care if you think I’m lying. I remember him.” 

“No! No, I do too. I mean, I know he existed and I remember him, now I do, anyway.” 

“What???” 

“I met him. He, uh, well he actually saved my life. And they gave me Retcon, you know the drug that makes you forget? But I was like 7 years old so they gave me a really low dose.” 

“But how??” Mica said.

Dylan explained to her about the Night Travellers and how Ianto had saved him. Mica listened in rapt silence. 

"But how did you remember?" 

"Oh, this is the best part! I had dreams all my life about the Night Travellers. And I saw your uncle in my dreams. But then the historian I was matched with, Jonathan, he’s amazing! He knows so much about Cardiff’s history but also film history. And he’s super badass. He saved me from these guys. But he's also got this amazing vulnerability and sadness.... But anyway, he had lost his parents to the Night Travellers. And he talked your uncle out of taking his memories. He did lots of research about Torchwood."

"He remembers Uncle Ianto?"

"Really well apparently!"

"Oh, Dylan! Can I come with you next time you visit him? I can say it's for my project, which it kind of is."

Before Dylan could hide it, he made a face. 

"What?" Mica asked. "Oh wait… Do you have a crush on him? Did you want to be all alone with him??" She giggled. "Is he cute?"

Dylan blushed.

"Ooooh, that looks like a yes! It's ok. I don't need to come. I just…"

"No! It's ok. Please do come. I mean, I'll ask him first. But I think he wants to know what happened to your uncle." Dylan looked at his shoes. "Do you think you could get some information from your contact?”

“Yes, definitely! I am seeing them tomorrow. Auntie Gwen doesn’t like to talk about those days but I think I can talk her into it. But don’t worry, I won’t get in your way. I’m gay too so he’s all yours!” 

“Oh, well, that’s great. I mean, er, you know, that you’re living your truth and all that. And, uh. Anyway, it's just a silly crush. He's not into me. He just sees me as some dumb kid." 

"Well," Mica said with a smile, "you're cute. He'd be lucky to get a hottie like you." 

Dylan blushed again but before he could reply the prof started the lecture.

*******************************

Mica met Dylan at the security gate for campus. She had a full backpack. As soon as she saw Dylan approach she waved happily. Dylan couldn’t help but feel just as happy. After more than a month on campus, he had finally made a friend. 

“Dyl!!! I am so excited! I had a long talk with Auntie Gwen, she’s not really my aunt, but I just call her that. She’s just a family friend. Anyway, it took a lot of coaxing but I got lots of stories out of her. AND…” Mica was beaming as she turned to show off her bright red vacuum sealed backpack that was adorned with various political patches. “She leant me some photo albums! And something else!!! You’ll see when we get there!” 

“Amazing!!!” Dylan couldn’t repress his excitement as they approached the guards. 

This time their luck was better and they caught the bus to Hope Street. Dylan wouldn’t have dawdled anyway this time. Were it not for the poison content in the air around them he would have needed Mica to to open her bag and show her treasures as soon as they cleared the gate. 

On the bus they chatted excitedly about their lives. Dylan told MIca about his childhood in Abergavenny. He told her about coming out to his parents when he was 15 and about his relationship with his first boyfriend that was cut short because the 456 came back and it wasn’t safe to leave the house, much less travel across the village to where his boyfriend lived. He told her about the dreams and how he had always wanted to come to Cardiff. 

Mica talked about her life as well. She had grown up in Newport. She said that her earliest memory was when her Auntie Gwen and Uncle Rhys had rescued her from the army who were gathering children up to take to the 456 the first time they came. After that Gwen and Rhys had always been her favourites. She and her brother David had insisted that her parents befriend them. Gwen and Rhys had been the first people she told when she was ready to come out. That had been the first time Gwen really told her about her late Uncle Ianto and his relationship with a man named Jack. Mica had never met this Jack though she desperately wanted to. Mica said Gwen said it was too painful for him to come back to Earth. She said Jack called Earth “a graveyard.” And that he felt a huge failure, especially when the 456 came back and changed everything in 2017. 

By the time the bus let them off at the bottom of Hope Street, Dylan felt like he knew his new friend so much better. And he felt completely protective of this strange, enthusiastic girl. He knew he would give his life for her if he needed to. And it felt like she would do the same. He didn’t have any siblings - that had survived anyway - and he felt such a strong brotherly love for Mica. 

Dylan could tell that Jonathan was just as impressed by Mica. “You look so much like him!” He said in wonder after they had decontaminated and they took off their outside suits and helmets. 

Jonathan was completely sincere - you couldn’t have faked that kind of astonishment - but he couldn’t have planned a better way to get on Mica’s good side. She practically glowed when Jonathan said that. 

“I do??” 

“It’s incredible? Have you seen pictures?” 

“I have!” Mica beamed. “Auntie Gwen gave me a photo album, so I can show both of you!” 

Dylan noticed that Jonathan had set up a table and some chair in the lobby. There were piles of scrapbooks on one side of the table. He was relieved that he wouldn’t have to go into the theatre. They settled at the table and Mica unpacked her bag. She pulled out a small photo album, several folders, and a worn and non-descript looking journal. She handled the journal with a reverence that led Dylan to guess it had been Ianto’s. 

Dylan couldn’t help but feel a small thrill that Jonathan seated himself right beside Dylan. Possibly closer than he needed to be. 

“There aren’t that many pictures of him.” Mica said sadly as she showed them the album. “My Mom said her parents didn’t take a lot growing up. This one is him and his girlfriend Lisa. She died from aliens too. Auntie Gwen said that he had this photo up in his flat. She and Uncle Rhys had to clean it out after… well, you know.” 

Jonathan had been right about Mica’s resemblance. She had the same piercing blue eyes and the same nose. Dylan stared at the pictures of this man, some of them he seemed annoyed that he was being made to pose for a picture, others he smiled with such a light in his eyes. There were only two images of him with Jack, the man Mica said was his boyfriend. One was them and a dark haired woman - Mica’s Auntie Gwen. In the other Jack had a casual arm slung around Ianto’s shoulders and Ianto - seemingly oblivious to the camera - had his head turned towards Jack. It was the biggest and brightest smile Ianto wore in any of the images. 

“They seemed very much in love.” Jonathan said when they all looked at the image. He sounded wistful. “Jack seemed to flirt with everyone he met. He didn’t flirt with me because I was only 16 but, he flirted with my parents. But the way he was with Ianto was different. You could tell there was a seriousness there.”

“Auntie Gwen said he was destroyed after Ianto died.” Mica said solemnly.

“Do…” Jonathan hesitated, Mica anticipated what he was going to ask and nodded permission for him to continue. “Do you know what happened to Ianto?” 

“He and Jack rushed into this government building to confront the 456. This was the first time they came in 2009. They didn’t really think ahead or come prepared. So the 456 released a virus and it killed both Jack and Ianto. But Jack is immortal, he can’t die. He’s lived for years and years, had so many lives. So he came back. But Ianto didn’t. Gwen said Jack was so distraught. He didn’t even get a chance to say ‘I love you’ to Ianto. Ianto said it to him but he panicked. She said she thinks he still regrets that. She didn’t want to say anything bad about Jack but she implied that he had pushed Ianto away a bit just before the end because he was scared. She said his regrets on that are probably still eating away at him. Then, well, Auntie Gwen won’t really talk about it, she says it's not her story to tell. But Jack somehow sacrificed his grandson to defeat the 456. And those two things just destroyed him. He left Earth and never came back. Gwen hasn’t heard from him since. She thought maybe when the 456 came back? But now she thinks that it's even worse because the fact that they came back means that both Ianto and his grandson died for nothing.” 

The three looked at each other hopelessly. Dylan’s heart tightened as he saw Jonathan’s expression. He looked so defeated. 

“I thought if I knew what happened, that I could think of a solution. That the past could give us a clue to the future. But if Torchwood couldn’t beat the 456, how could anyone else on Earth?” 

Without thinking Dylan put a comforting hand on Jonathan’s arm. Jonathan looked down at his hand sadly and lifted it off of his arm.

“It’s no use Dylan. What’s the point of anything?” 

Mica and Dylan looked at each other helplessly. Dylan looked at Jonathan. It was only now when Jonathan looked so downhearted that Dylan realized how skinny he looked. Dylan wondered if he was eating properly, he suspected not.

“Well, I might as well show you the scrapbooks I pulled about Hope Street.” Jonathan said in a monotone. “I don’t want you to fail your assignment because I’m depressed.” 

He showed them the books and talked about Hope Street’s history and the early archival films that had been shot there. Dylan could tell Jonathan was putting an effort in but he could tell the older man was having a lot of trouble even talking. 

Eventually Dylan and Mica left. Jonathan didn’t even walk them to the door. He just said goodbye and then stared at the wall. 

“I’m so sorry.” Mica said as they waited for the bus back to campus. “I didn’t realize the story would depress him like that.” 

“I didn’t know either. But I can see where he’s coming from.” Dylan said. “I think maybe Jonathan thought we could find a way to get Jack to come back.” 

“I know. I was sad when Auntie Gwen told me too. But Dylan. I dunno, maybe this is crazy. But what if we can do something. What if we don’t need Jack?” 

“But what can we do?” 

“Well,” Mica sighed. “I haven’t thought of that yet. But I will!” 

“Poor Ianto,” Dylan sighed. “In love with an older and emotionally unavailable man. And he was only 27 when he died.” 

“Over identify much?” Mica teased. 

“Maybe,” Dylan sighed. 

"But you…" Mica's words died in her throat. She was staring at a figure across the street who was moving in a strange jerky fashion. 

"You will relent! This world is ours!" The figure screamed in a voice that didn't seem to be their own. 

Dylan and Mica clung to each other. 

"What do we do?" Dylan whispered. "They’re coming towards us."

The figure was making to cross the street. 

"The alien alarm!!" Mica whispered back. There was a post with a black button near the bus stop. Mica ran and smashed the button several times. 

"I don't know if it's working." She said, her voice filled with tension. 

The figure was moving closer. "The world is ours!!" 

The figure was in the middle of the street. Then they heard the sirens. A lumbering truck appeared around the corner and suddenly the sound of bullets whizzed through the air. The truck's guns were trained on the figure and bullets were ripping through them. The figure collapsed and three figures in hazmat suits jumped out of the truck with a stretcher. The hefted the body onto the stretcher and carried it back to the truck. And then the truck zoomed away. The street was still. It was almost as if nothing happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I would love to hear what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mica and Dylan do more research and get some help from an unexpected place.

Mica and Dylan looked at each other. They didn't know what to say. A few minutes passed and the bus arrived. They rode back to campus in silence. It wasn't till they had gone through security and were back on campus that Mica spoke.

“Hey, I still have some things to show you that I didn’t show Jonathan cuz he got too depressed. Can I come over to yours?” 

“Yes, please." Dylan said. He didn't want to be alone either.

After they decontaminated Dylan led Mica to the homework table in the common area. All of his roommates were out. They were probably at their labs or in the library. 

“Okay! So what else is there?” Dylan was getting some enthusiasm back. There probably wasn’t anything they could do but he couldn’t help but be excited to dig into the past this way. Anything to take his mind off the figure in the street being riddled with bullets. Mica had assembled an impressive amount of newspaper clippings, magazine articles, printouts from websites, and other notes. But the most exciting thing she had was Ianto’s diary.

“He took it everywhere he went. Auntie Gwen said that they only realized later that it was with his things, after he was buried. Gwen says she would have buried it with him but she wasn’t about to go dig him up just to add the diary, and she couldn’t bring herself to burn it. But she said maybe I could get some use from it.” 

“Is it… like is it ethical to read his journal?” Dylan asked.

“I don’t know. I think… maybe it can help us understand what happened.” 

Mica and Dylan jumped as the sound of a key in the front door echoed through the room. Moments later Holly rolled in. 

“Hey, kiddo! How’s it going? I think this is the first time I’ve seen you outside of the kitchen at 3 a.m.!” 

Mica raised an eyebrow.

“We both get nightmares, you know, family stuff.” 

Mica looked at Holly with interest. “I’m Mica - I’m in Dylan’s class. We’re working on a project.” 

“I’m Holly!” Holly rolled over to shake Mica’s hand. The two made intense eye contact. Which, Dylan thought, really wasn’t surprising because these two were the most intense people he knew. 

“Wait,” Mica said as she was finally able to tear herself away from staring at Holly. “Holly Frobisher?” Mica turned to the table and shifted through the papers.

“I use my Mom’s maiden name now - Smyth - but yeah, that’s me.” Holly, as usual, didn’t seem bothered by the question. 

“Wow! I have an article here about you! You look so young in this picture but it has to be you.” Mica looked at the article and then at Holly and at the article. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry. You probably don’t want to talk about it. That’s so… I can’t even imagine.” 

Holly shrugged. “Nah, whatever. I survived that mother fucker, talking about it isn’t going to kill me. I know there was a lot of speculation. But like, he did it because he got ordered to hand me and my sister over to the 456. It had to look like politicians made sacrifices too. And he didn’t want to see us get turned into alien crack, so he shot us. Am I happy that I don’t have parents or a sister anymore? No. But I understand why he did it. Still hate him though.” 

“Wow.” Mica said dreamily. 

“Wait, what are you researching anyway?” Holly asked. “Is this for kiddo’s history class?” 

“We’re looking into Torchwood.” Mica said proudly. 

“Really?! That’s so cool. You know, Torchwood was the reason I came to Cardiff University.” Holly said.

“For real?” Dylan and Mica exclaimed.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s probably stupid.” 

“Oh, I guarantee it isn’t. What was it about Torchwood that made you move to Cardiff.” Mica was clearly very impressed.

“I mean, I did a lot of digging whilst I was recovering from the shooting. I needed to understand why he would do this to us, to me. And then I found out about Torchwood, about how they tried to stand up to the 456. And I just thought, I want to work for them. I want to prevent fathers out there from killing their families because of aliens. That’s why I went into engineering. I wanted to create things to fight aliens. But then when I got to Cardiff… It was crappy. No one here would admit they had heard of them. I mean, back in 2010 Torchwood was the world’s worst kept secret in Cardiff - so many blogs going on about them, logging Torchwood sightings. But now, people either laugh or call you crazy if you mention them.”

“Tell me about it!” Mica commiserated. “I know my uncle existed. I’ve seen pictures, I’ve seen his birth certificate. But if I ever talk about him, everyone says I’m making up stories.” 

Holly fixed her intense gaze on Mica and smiled a smile that Dylan had never seen the likes of. He suddenly felt that he was intruding on something. 

“Hey,” Holly said thoughtfully. “Is that a photo album you have there?” 

Mica nodded and handed the photo album to Holly. 

“I just want to see if…” Holly was paging through the book until she stopped. “There she is!” 

Holly grinned and held the album so Dylan and Mica could see. She was pointing to a picture of an Asian woman who posed with Ianto and a surly looking man. 

“That’s her! She’s the one who inspired me the most. Her name was Toshiko Sato. She was a brilliant inventor and systems admin. Everyone on the message boards used to talk about how her encoding was so super strong and complicated. No one could ever hack their systems because of her. And she created all these gadgets.” 

“Auntie Gwen says she was my uncle’s best friend.” Mica said sadly. “She said he was never the same after she died.” 

“She died at the same time as the grumpy one, yeah?” Holly asked.

“Yes, in that mass of coordinated bombings that hit Cardiff in 2008.” Mica explained. “I have a bunch of articles about those here.” 

“That’s so sad. I often think that if she’d lived, she might have found a way to beat the 456, you know?” 

Mica laughed mirthlessly. “Hey, I’ve got a solution to our problems! We just have to build a time machine and go save Toshiko!” 

They all laughed. 

“Don’t think I haven’t tried to create one.” Holly said. “But I never succeeded.” 

Dylan noticed that Mica and Holly kept looking at each other dreamily. He definitely felt like he was intruding on something. “Just a sec, I need to go to the washroom.” Dylan mumbled and left the room to give them some privacy. 

His thoughts swirled as he stood in the washroom waiting to give them enough time so that one of them would ask the other out. What a day of revelations it had been! He thought about what Holly said about Toshiko Sato. He thought about Jonathan’s despondency and how he said he wanted to go back to the point where everything turned. Was there really a point at which things changed for the worse? A point where if things had turned out differently he would be living in a completely different world? Was this possible? 

After awhile Dylan flushed the toilet to warn them of his imminent return and went back to the Common Area. Holly and Mica were grinning delightedly at each other.

“I should go, the tunnels back to my dorm close an hour after outside curfew starts.” Mica said, looking at her watch. “But I will see you, Dylan, in class in a few days. And I will see you, Holly, on Friday!” 

“Can’t wait!” Holly said excitedly.

“Me either!” bubbled Mica.

They both saw Mica to the door and watched her skip down the hallway to the elevators. 

“So did you ask her out?” Dylan said looking at Holly’s shit-eating-grin. 

“She asked *me* out!” Holly said with delight. “That girl is like no one I have ever met before. She’s so smart and so intense. I have no idea what she sees in me.” 

Dylan laughed. “Um, maybe she sees someone else who is brilliant and intense. Cuz that is what you are!”

“Oh kiddo.” Holly said modestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I would love to hear what you think. 
> 
> So I know that in canon Holly Frobisher dies with her sister and mother but I just loved the idea of all the characters being somehow second generation Torchwood that I had to have her survive in this verse.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan reads Ianto's diary.

Dylan felt a little twinge of guilt reading Ianto’s diary. The man had been dead for 13 years but there was still something that felt weird about it. But Dylan was convinced he would learn something valuable in it. 

The diary broke his heart. It was the continuation of an earlier diary and this one started after Jack had just returned from being away for three months. Dylan wished he could have read that diary as well. Ianto spent a great deal of time worrying about Jack and what had happened to him. The way that Ianto wrote about Jack took Dylan’s breath away. His care and the way he loved this man permeated each sentence. But he was also jokey and suspicious about Jack’s extravagant stories and cannily realistic about what future they had. The entries where Ianto ruminated about how some day he would die and once again leave Jack alone were intensely sad. Dylan did not detect any kind of fear of mortality from Ianto but only a deep sadness that someday he, like everyone else Jack knew, would abandon him but Jack would have to keep going. 

But Ianto didn’t just write about Jack. The way he wrote about his coworkers showed the same kind of care and attention that he did towards Jack. He was in awe of Toshiko - who he called Tosh - and her ability and creativity. He detailed several gadgets she either improved on or invented. He talked about how they held each other up and supported each other when they were sad. And Ianto felt so much empathy for the grumpy one - Owen - because his moods and the way he apparently bullied everyone but especially Tosh and Ianto, according to Ianto, came out of the trauma of all the people he had loved and lost too soon. Ianto’s empathy for Owen increased after he died and was brought back through a mystical glove. 

When Dylan got to the section of the diary where Tosh and Owen died, this time permanently, he could not help but weep at the pain in Ianto’s writing. Ianto grieved for his lost coworkers but he also worried about how their death’s had hurt Jack, who blamed himself. Dylan was at the same time amazed at the intense level of detail that Ianto described about the events leading to the Cardiff bombings, down to the exact location of all the bombs and the times they went off. In his grief-stricken state he still managed to give a very complete description of all that occurred. Dylan wondered if this was some sort of coping mechanism. Ianto had to recreate every single little detail of these traumatic events to understand them and to process them.

After Tosh and Owen’s death the entries got slightly shorter and less frequent. Ianto still had the same alert analysis and sense of wanting to know and understand everything but there was an exhaustion creeping into the writing. His small and neat handwriting got slightly less precise. He wrote about how he worried about Jack and Gwen having to work too hard but never complained about his own tiredness. 

Dylan had just gotten to the section where the Torchwood headquarters - the Hub - had been blown up when he found a small packet of papers kept together by a paper clip. That seemed odd to Dylan since he had read earlier of Ianto’s abject hatred of paperclips because they weren’t archival and could rust and ruin documents. Several entries had featured frustrated descriptions of having to pry rusty paperclips off of documents. It appeared someone else had slid the papers into Ianto’s diary. 

Dylan examined the papers. They weren’t in Ianto’s neat and controlled handwriting. It was an altogether more loopy and loose hand. The papers featured many drawings and plans relating to some kind of wristwatch or something on a leather strap. Dylan put them aside to ask Mica about when he saw her in class. 

The diary ended soon after that. The last few entries were filled with Ianto’s exhaustion and pain. He worried about Jack and worried that there was no way to stop the 456. His last entry ended with a description of a fight he had with Jack when Jack had revealed that he had a daughter and granddaughter that he had never told Ianto about. Ianto mourned for how Jack had kept all these big and heavy secrets and what that had done to him. 

Dylan stared at the few empty pages left in the journal and sobbed. He felt the loss of this young man who was so smart and so caring but also so self aware. And he felt how Jack must have felt losing such a man.

After he finished the journal he went to bed. He tossed and turned and eventually fell asleep. Only to awake several hours later out of a nightmare. It was the same thing he always dreamed about but then it switched and he was in a strange room and there were aliens in a tank, and then he was suffocating and he fell to the floor and woke up. 

Dylan got up and got a glass of water. Apparently Holly was sleeping peacefully tonight because she wasn’t there. But as he walked back to her room he saw a light under her door and heard her softly speaking, it sounded like a video chat. She was describing her dream. When Dylan heard the voice on the other end say something he broke into a deep smile. It was Mica’s voice. 

Dylan was wide awake now so he thought he would email Jonathan. He wasn’t sure the older man would want an email, especially not a 3 a.m. post nightmare one but somehow he didn’t feel like stopping himself. 

He told Jonathan about Ianto’s diary, about Holly’s connection to the events, and about how Mica had joked about time travel. He asked Jonathan if he could come back to see him at the Electro. He tried to be light hearted and crack jokes. He wanted to take some of that sadness he saw in Jonathan today away. He was about to turn off his wifi and try to go back to sleep when his phone pinged with a response. 

“Hey, so I guess you can’t sleep either. Thanks for your email. It’s sweet that you’re trying to cheer me up. You’re sweet. Too sweet, I worry. This world has a way of chewing up and spitting out kind people. Just look at our Ianto. 

I’m sorry for my mood today. It was self-indulgent and not productive. There’s got to be some way to figure out time travel. Jack did it. He had a device that helped him travel through time and space, but apparently someone broke it on purpose so he couldn’t travel through time anymore. 

Anyway, I am sure I can find more things to show you from Hope Street’s history if you want to come by. Just let me know when you’re free. It’s so strange to talk about the past. Lately no one wants to remember. Maybe it’s painful to think of a time before the aliens and even more painful to look back at all those years of occupation? But I found something comforting in going back to a time when no one knew about aliens. I hope this doesn’t sound too maudlin but thank you for your enthusiasm. It is so nice to find a fellow history nerd. 

Looking forward to seeing you soon.” 

Dylan's heart beat a little faster. If it weren't for the curfew and the tanks rolling through the streets he would have run to Hope Street right then. 

His hands trembled as he tapped out a response on his phone. 

"I’m done my classes at 3 on Tuesday. I could come then." He typed. 

"That sounds good. I would like that." Came the response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I would love to hear what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan visits Jonathan and faces some fears.

As he stood at the outer door of the Electro, suddenly Dylan worried that Jonathan had been sleep emailing or very drunk two nights ago when they made the plan and had now forgotten. 

He nervously pushed the buzzer button and waved at the camera in the door. The door buzzed and creaked open. That was a good sign. After the decontamination process, Dylan took off his visor and mask and started to get out of his outside suit. The inner door opened and Jonathan was standing there. The man was gorgeous. His dirty blond hair was delightfully tousled and his green eyes almost sparkled as a smile lit his face when he saw Dylan. Dylan could not control the blush that took over his face. 

"You made it!" Jonathan said. 

"Yup! How are you doing?"

Jonathan's smile faded a bit. "You know, getting by." 

"Hey, I brought take out! It's mostly just for me, I get so hungry after class." Dylan lied as he held up his large food transporter bag. "I don't eat meat so it's all vegetarian, I hope that's ok?"

Jonathan smiled sadly. Dylan had no doubt Jonathan was on to him but was too polite and hungry to protest about the charity.

They spread out the food, Dylan had gotten way too much so that Jonathan would have some leftovers, and began to eat. Over the food Jonathan told Dylan stories he had learned about Hope Street in the early 1900s. Jonathan had done so much research that Dylan could almost picture the storefronts and the personalities of the residents from his detailed descriptions. 

Dylan was utterly charmed. He peppered Jonathan with questions and theories. By the time they were both full Dylan felt like he had lived in Hope Street back in the day. 

"I can see why you went into history," Jonathan said as he leaned back in his chair and put his napkin on his plate with a satiated and happy sigh.

"How so?" Dylan asked, subtly leaning in towards Jonathan.

"Your mind… it just never stops. I have never met anyone as curious as you. It’s rare to see someone who wants to think about the past, much less to ask as many precise and interesting questions. I thought I was curious but you ask questions that I would never have thought of in a million years."

Dylan blushed bright red. "Oh! I only ask so many questions because you know so much. It is such a gift to spend time with you and hear all your stories!"

It was Jonathan's turn to blush. He looked so beautiful as his unnaturally pale and sallow cheeks flooded with warm colour. Dylan tried to imagine what Jonathan would look like if he could go out in the sun. He imagined them having a picnic, the sun shining in Jonathan's eyes, as his hair ruffled gently in the breeze…

"Dylan? Uh, Dylan?"

Jonathan's gentle touch on his arm jolted Dylan back from his daydream. "What? Uh, sorry! Sorry, I spaced out there." Dylan said sheepishly. 

Jonathan smiled indulgently. "I just asked if you were done. I should pack these up before the rats get them. Where's your bag, I'll send these back with you."

"Oh no, that's ok!" Dylan protested. "I have too much food at home. And I don't really like leftovers so they will go to waste. You keep them." 

Jonathan eyed him suspiciously but gathered the leftovers together.

"I'll just go put these in my fridge." Jonathan said and bounded up the stairs. 

Dylan stood up. He felt a strange morbid curiosity. Just as he couldn't make his feet move into the auditorium on his first visit, now he couldn't resist the urge to enter. He walked to the curtained door and looked at it, as if hypnotized. 

"Dyl? Are you ok?" 

He felt a warm and gentle hand on his shoulder. 

"I think I need to go in." He said, turning to search Jonathan's face for a reaction. 

Jonathan nodded with concern. He held his hand out to Dylan. "We can face it together." 

Dylan took his hand. It was warm and safe and comforting. With his free hand Jonathan parted the red curtain and they walked in.

It looked like a normal film auditorium. The stage and large screen were at the front of the hall and in the middle Jonathan had taken out some of the chairs and put a large table and a desk and a workstation. 

Jonathan squeezed Dylan's hand gently. "How are you doing?"

"I'm ok. I know it's just a room, just a screen, but it feels weird. I see why you set up your office here. It's beautiful."

"I've spent so much of my life in this room," Jonathan said, looking around. "It just felt right. Sometimes I think about my parents and how they died in this room. But sometimes, it's weird, that makes me feel closer to them. To be in here, I mean." 

Without really discussing it, they both sat down in the seats, without letting go of each other's hand. 

“I can understand that.” Dylan said softly. “I think that’s why I came to Cardiff. I had to work a few years before I started university to pay for it, so now I’m older than everyone in my class. And I knew it would be more dangerous than Abergavenny, but I felt like being here, being in the city where it happened. That would mean something.” 

“Mmn.” Jonathan agreed.

“Can I ask you something?” Dylan said. They were both still looking forward. It seemed easier to not look at each other. “What happened… I mean, how did you get the scar? I mean, you don’t have to tell me. I’m just being nosey.”

“It’s okay.” Jonathan said gently. “It was before things got really bad or maybe it was just a different kind of bad. But, when the 456 came back, it was chaos. There was a lot of violence in Cardiff. Everyone suspected everyone else. This was before they developed the alien detection technology. There was… a friend of mine, Marcos. We were pretty close. Which is to say, I knew him really well. So I would have known if he was possessed by the aliens. I know they say it’s hard to tell. But I *knew* him. Anyway, he had a disagreement with someone at the grocery store down the street, it was something stupid. I don’t even remember. And… I wasn’t there at first but I heard a commotion so I came running. There was a group gathered round. They had knives, and clubs, and just anything they could find on the street. Everyone was armed in those days. And they were beating him. I tried to stop them… I tried to convince them that he was fine, that he wasn’t possessed. He just had a strong personality and he wouldn’t take an insult. I tried… Dylan, I did everything I could. But I couldn’t… they wouldn’t listen. Someone cut me. And they… I… Well, he didn’t survive. I only did because one of my neighbours pulled me away from it after I passed out.” 

Jonathan began to weep, he dropped Dylan’s hand and held his face in his hands. Dylan pulled out a handkerchief and gave it to him. 

“I’m so sorry.” Dylan said as he smoothed a hand up and down Jonathan’s back. “It’s so shitty. I’m so sorry.” 

“It was a long time ago.” Jonathan said shakily. “I don’t think about it that much. I miss him…” 

“Was he…” Dylan wasn’t sure if this was asking for too much. “Was he your boyfriend? Or husband?” 

“He was… we were dating. I… I loved him with all my heart. But we were growing apart. If he had lived we wouldn’t have lasted the rest of that year. And that… I thought maybe if we hadn’t been arguing all the time, if we hadn’t been going through all that? Maybe I would have been with him and I could have stopped it before things got that bad? Before everyone believed he was possessed.” Jonathan began to sob again.

“No… no that’s not true. It’s not your fault. It was horrible and unfair. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He moved to kneel on the floor in front of Jonathan and pulled his shaking body into his arms. Jonathan clung to him and sobbed on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. Let it out.” He said as he held Jonathan tightly. 

The floor under his knees was cold and the angle was a bit odd but Dylan would not have moved for anything. Though it was not long before Jonathan got himself together and pulled back from Dylan. 

“I’m so sorry to just fall apart like that. It’s been a long time.” 

“It’s okay!” Dylan said and boldly reached out to smooth some tears off of Jonathan’s cheek. “Thank you for telling me.” 

“Thank you for being here.” Jonathan said as he looked at Dylan. 

Dylan smiled self-consciously. He thought, he was so close to Jonathan, if he just leaned forward a bit, they could be kissing. But he looked at the pain and sadness on Jonathan’s face and he knew he couldn’t take advantage of his vulnerable state like that. Instead, Dylan pulled back more and stood up to go back to his seat.

“Oh! I didn’t even think about the time!” Jonathan exclaimed looking at his watch. “It’s quarter to 6!” 

There was no way that Dylan could make it back to campus in 15 minutes. 

“Oh shit!!” Dylan said.

“Well, you’ll just have to stay here.” Jonathan said matter of factly. “When does your first class start tomorrow?” 

“It’s not till 11, so I have lots of time to get back once the curfew lifts.” 

“I’m so sorry, Dylan. Will you get in trouble? I can write you a note saying it’s my fault that you were out late. Because it is.” 

Dylan could have hugged Jonathan - he was looking so earnestly concerned. “It’s okay. I’ll just text my roommate Holly, so she doesn’t worry.” He was going to face a lot of excited questions and gentle teasing from Holly and Mica about this one, he thought. 

He quickly tapped out a text and then turned his attention back to Jonathan. 

“You know, the projector still works.” Jonathan said. “Sometimes I screen films just so it stays working. Do you want me to screen something for you?” 

“Really?????” Dylan had never seen a film on actual film projected before. “YES!!!” 

Jonathan beamed at Dylan’s enthusiasm. 

“Okay, you stay here. I’ll have to be in the projection booth but I can see through the window. Will you be okay here, alone?” 

“Yes! Thanks for asking. I think I am okay with this space though.” Dylan was so excited he was nearly jumping up and down in his seat.

“Okay. I wish I still had some popcorn. But the popcorn machine is broken anyway.” 

With that Jonathan rushed out of the auditorium. And about ten minutes later the lights dimmed and the curtain at the front parted to reveal a screen. Dylan could hear the projector whirr to life and the film started. 

Jonathan ended up projecting three films for Dylan. They were magical. He barely remembered seeing digital films in the theatre but to see photochemical film was so different. It felt tactile in a way. Sitting in the dark and images leaping to life in front of him was magical. By the third film Dylan drifted up to the projection booth to watch with Jonathan through the little observation window. He didn’t pay as much attention to the film as he did watch Jonathan as he flittled between the two projectors, cueing up the next reel as the reel before was coming to an end. 

All of Jonathan’s earlier misery seemed to have vanished. His look of concentration as he threaded the projector was also one of joy. He’s born to do this, Dylan thought. It was a tragedy that it wasn’t safe to go to films anymore. Dylan imagined a future without the 456 where Jonathan could be a projectionist and run a theatre. He imagined the Electro teaming with excited patrons who loudly laughed or cried or screamed at the film. It broke his heart that Jonathan was deprived of that. 

As the credits on the last reel rolled, Dylan smiled at Jonathan. 

“That was amazing!! Thank you so much!!! You must miss it terribly.” He said.

“I do. Sometimes I just run films and imagine there is an audience.” Jonathan said, his melancholy tone had returned. 

“That’s what I was doing!” Dylan exclaimed. “I wish that someday you can open the Electro again and that there will be people to watch the films.” 

“That seems like such a dream. I want that too. Will you come? If this all ends and we can be normal again? Would you come to my screening?” 

“Jonathan, I would be first in line!” 

Jonathan smiled at Dylan and once again Dylan was gripped with the desire to throw himself into Jonathan’s arms and kiss him passionately. He clenched his fist to stifle the impulse. Jonathan was being nice to him but he probably saw Dylan as just a little kid. 

“It’s getting late, I need to get you in bed.” Jonathan said. His face froze in horror and bloomed into a deep blush as he realized how that sounded. “Err I mean, to bed, I mean, it’s just late and you must be tired because you had a long day and… uh… you know.” 

Dylan smiled. “I knew what you meant.” He was not dumb enough to think that Jonathan actually wanted to get him in bed in the sexual sense. 

Dylan followed Jonathan to his room. 

"You can have the bed. I just put fresh sheets on it this morning cuz I did laundry."

"But where will you sleep?"

"I'll sleep in the chair."

"But that doesn't look very comfortable…"

"No really, I insist. You are my guest, you should have the bed."

Dylan thought the bed looked big enough for two but he was too shy to suggest that. Jonathan handed him an old pair of pajamas that he thought would fit and some towels and let him use the washroom first to change and get ready for bed.

Dylan hadn't realized he was so tired until he climbed into Jonathan's bed. He was asleep almost instantly. 

****************

The dream was the same as he always had: Ghostmaker, his parents, his sister. But then, Jonathan was there. Jonathan stepped in to protect him from the Ghostmaker. Jonathan's breath was stolen and Dylan went to hold him but he shattered into a million pieces. Dylan screamed. He screamed until he felt gentle hands shaking him. He heard his name. And he gasped awake. Jonathan was leaning over him, his face full of concern.

Without thinking Dylan grabbed Jonathan and clung to him. Something about the dream felt prophetic, like a warning. Jonathan held him and whispered soothing words in his ear until Dylan's breathing had returned to normal. 

"Did you dream about them?" Jonathan said as he pulled back and cupped Dylan's face in his hand. 

"Yes… but also, you were there. You saved me but they got you. It was all my fault." 

"Oh, Dyl, it's ok. It was just a dream. You're safe here." 

Dylan nodded. "Would you stay?" He said shakily. He couldn't let go of Jonathan, the remnants of the dream still clung to his mind like cobwebs. He thought if he didn't let go, Jonathan would be ok. If he could just hang on. 

"Of course." 

Jonathan climbed into the bed with him and spooned Dylan. Jonathan's warmth surrounded him and he could smell Jonathan's scent - a mix of strong soap and projector grease - all around him. Dylan's heart rate slowed, he felt completely safe. He matched his breathing to Jonathan's and soon was asleep.

Dylan awoke with a start. Jonathan was still beside him in the bed but he wasn't wrapped around him anymore. Jonathan tossed and turned and mumbled. Dylan couldn't make out words but Jonathan sounded upset. 

"No! No please!!" Jonathan pleaded. His face, though still asleep, was far from peaceful. 

Dylan moved quickly. He stroked Jonathan's shoulders and gently shook him. 

"Jonathan, come back to me, please. You're ok. You're safe." Dylan whispered. He shook Jonathan more forcefully.

Finally Jonathan's eyes sprang open. They were wide and full of terror but then he focused on Dylan. His eyes softened. 

"It was just a dream." Dylan said. He released his grip on Jonathan's shoulders and slid his hands down. It was like a jolt of electricity when his hands reached Jonathan's bare arms beyond his t-shirt sleeves. 

Jonathan's eyes widened in surprise. But it didn't seem like a bad surprise. Dylan's skin on his skin must have given him the same jolt. He pulled Dylan into an embrace.

"Thank you for waking me up. It was bad..." He said into the crick of Dylan's neck. Jonathan's breath on his neck did some things to Dylan. 

"I owed you one." Dylan murmured as he smoothed his hands up and down Jonathan's back comfortingly.

Eventually Jonathan pulled away and smiled beatifically at him. They were so close… he could easily close the distance and kiss Jonathan. But he couldn't. He still wasn't sure what Jonathan wanted, and how Jonathan saw him.

Jonathan broke their eye contact to look at his phone. 

"Still too early to get up," he murmured. "Let's try to sleep some more." 

They resumed their position of Jonathan spooning Dylan, thankfully, the other way around would have revealed too many things about Dylan's current state of arousal. 

"I'm glad you're here." Jonathan whispered so quietly that Dylan wasn't sure if he had imagined it. As Dylan drifted off he noticed that though Jonathan still held him he was not tucked into Dylan's back like before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I *really* miss going to movie theatres??
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I would love to hear what you think!


End file.
